


3 ways Shirabu distracted Yahaba

by bokutos_official_simp



Series: Shirayaha Supremacy [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Yahaba Shigeru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutos_official_simp/pseuds/bokutos_official_simp
Summary: Shirabu is distracting, at least to Aobajōsai setter and captain Yahaba
Relationships: Shirabu Kenjirou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Shirayaha Supremacy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168118
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	3 ways Shirabu distracted Yahaba

Yahaba had no desire to become the next Oikawa. 

Well, in the sense that he didn’t want to have their shiratorizawa rivalry. And that could be for multiple reasons: he thought it was childish, he thought they could gain more by being friends, it’s Oikawa’s fight—not his. 

As far as he knew, Shirabu would be next captain of shiratorizawa. Yahaba had nothing against the copper haired setter. Or maybe it was deeper than that.

Welcome to 3 times Shirabu distracted Yahaba

-  
#1 

Yahaba spins a ball in his hand as his team warms up. Although the third years were also warming up, Yahaba doubts they’d all play. Even since their final game, the third years usually left the under class men to play the practice games. 

“Shigeru,” Watari calls to the next-in-line captain, “Me and others are gonna practice my libero toss.”

Yahaba nods to acknowledge the boy. It feels odd having his teammates—especially such a close friend like Watari—coming to him. Sure he‘s upcoming captain, but it hadn’t yet set in.

As Watari is tossing to Kyotani, a team of boys all dressed in purple gym tracksuits walk in. Yahaba turns to see his supposed rival leading the group. Shirabu’s brown eyes land on him as well.

Yahaba inhales sharply. There was something different. He usually wouldn’t think twice of the other setter’s intense glare, but this time it pierced him like a arrow. His eyes... were distracting

“Captain?” Kunimi strangely soft—but not kind—voice came from besides Yahaba.

Yahaba blinks a couple times, still not use to his captain title. As soon as he realizes, he looks at Kunimi. “Akira, you don’t have to-“ he shakes his head, “Nevermind. Let’s just greet them.”

Oikawa takes the lead and gathers his team to greet Shiratorizawa. He shakes Shirabu’s hand.

“Ah, Shirabu-chan,” he gives Shirabu a fake smile, “So Ushijima already stepped down, did he?”

Shirabu nods, breaking the hand shake soon after. “It’s about time I quit relying on him. I’m next captain, so don’t you think I should act like one?”

Oikawa gives a different smile; anyone, including the younger captain, could tell it was fake. There’s intimidation behind it. Its nearly sour as he glared at the arrogant second year. 

“Well, I see you’re no better than that Ushibaka-“

Iwaizumi cuts Oikawa off with a raise of his hand, “Quit it.” He looks at Shirabu without words.

As the game was going to start, Iwaizumi called out the starting line up. Yahaba as setter, Kyotani, Hanamaki, and Kunimi as wing spikers, Watari as libero, and Matsukawa and Kindaichi as middle blockers. As Yahaba walks up to shake Shirabu’s hand, the shorter boy raises an eyebrow.

“Nani?” he pauses before taking Yahaba’s hand, “So you’re Oikawa’s successor? Well I guess that makes us arch enemies?”

Yahaba barely manages to respond, “We don’t have to be, Shirabu,” he tries to look him in the eyes while at the same time not get lost in the light brown orbs. “That rivalry.. is a childish feud between our captains.”

“Hm, but Shiratorizawa will still rise above Aobajōsai,” Shirabu clicks his tongue, “That’s something that won’t change, Yahaba-kun.” With that, he turns back to rejoin his team.

Yahaba watches him go, secretly wishing he had a few more seconds to stare at the distracting eyes. He gulps and joins his team as well.

Without Oikawa and Iwaizumi playing, Aobajōsai was definitely at a disadvantage, but that wasn’t the only thing holding them back. Yahaba keeps stealing glances at Shirabu, hoping to see a glimpse of his eyes.

“Captain, are you trying to pick a fight with their setter?” Kindaichi asks after another ball went in, giving shiratorizawa the point.

“Kindaichi, I have a name,” he huffs. “And no, I’m not.”

Kyotani scoffs. “Look, we don’t have time for you to make goo-goo eyes at their captain. Get your head in the fucking game.” Hanamaki snickers at this comment.

Yahaba’s cheeks flush. “I-I’m not! Kyoken, just worry about your own play.”

“As much as I hate it, I can’t really play when my setter isn’t paying attention,” Kyotani growls, “And don’t call me that.”

Yahaba rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Once the game continues, Yahaba gets a better grip on himself. He focuses on the game, which rarely requires him to look at Shirabu. However, that changed when Shirabu was up for serving.

“Guys,” Matsukawa’s mumbles from his position in front of Kyotani, “His serves aren’t that spectacular. This should be easy to receive.” The rest of the team nods. 

Yahaba knows he’s right; Shirabu’s strong suit lied in setting no matter the receive. But that doesn’t matter when Yahaba locks eyes with the shorter setter. He doesn’t even hear the whistle blow, signaling for Shirabu to serve.

“Shigeru!” Hanamaki calls, snapping Yahaba back to reality.

Yahaba jolts. The ball was coming towards him. He barely receives, sloppily sending it to Watari for the set. “Sorry, it’s off!” He calls to his libero.

Hanamaki is up to spike the ball, sending it in an empty spot of the other side. The team cheers, but Yahaba just sighs. He was happy they were able to pull that off, but he silently cursed himself for being distracted like that.

Yahaba looks last the net, locking eyes with Shirabu once again. The setter-captain was smiling smugly as if he knew. And maybe he did.

‘Those eyes...’ Yahaba thinks. ‘Those damn eyes will be the death of me’

—  
#2

The second time Shirabu distracted Yahaba, the former approached the latter. His eyes were low as if he had reluctantly came up to him.

“Yahaba-“ Shirabu starts, only to trail off. He looks away slightly, catching sight of his team that merged with Yahaba’s.

It was their first practice match without the third years. The start of the new school year—making them the third years—hit harder than either of them thought it would. 

“Hm?” Yahaba puts down his water bottle, “Well, go on. Out with it.” He makes his tone slightly harsh. He regrets it when he sees Shirabu’s brown eyes flicker. Those damn eyes. “What is it?”

Shirabu takes in a deep breathe. “Can you teach me how to spike? I noticed that even as setter you can spike well, along with that amazing serve.” He mutters the praise quietly.

Yahaba looks genuinely surprised. The shorter boy still hasn’t looked him in the eyes. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs. Shirabu mumbles a thanks.

Shirabu’s hands. That’s the second time Shirabu manages to distract Yahaba. They’re a decent size, though Yahaba’s hands are still considerably larger. He shows Shirabu the correct form to spike, pushing the smaller fingers closer together.

“Like this?” Shirabu asks, trying the hand positioning again. He gets a nod in return.

Yahaba finds himself gawking at the hand. Shirabu’s gingers are slender and long; they look graceful from tip to palm. What would it feel like to intertwine his fingers with Shirabu’s, Yahaba wonders.

“Yahaba, am I doing it wrong?” Shirabu asks, noticing Yahaba taking glances at his hand.

Yahaba secretly wishes Shirabu would call him by his first name. He didn’t mind his family name, he just wanted to hear it from Shirabu’s mouth.

“Hm?” Yahaba looks back up at Shirabu, getting struck with those eyes. “U-uh, no. You’re good. I’m just distracted, sorry.”

Shirabu nods, looking back at his own hand. He shifts them slightly. “Thanks.“ Yahaba looks at his face again. “For teaching me, that is.” a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Yahaba is sure he could die right there. He smiles, turning away to hide it from the older boy. Shirabu smiles slyly, hiding his under his lopsided bangs. He knew he was getting Yahaba’s attention.

Those damn hands. 

—  
#3

Between all of this, Yahaba never stopped getting distracted by Shirabu. His hands, eyes, and even his damn copper-shaded blond hair. The smallest of things would catch Yahaba’s attention, and he would focus so intently that he could see them without really looking.

The pair of eyes popped in his mind during exams; the way the oddly cut bangs swayed was copied into Yahaba’s dreams he had about shiratorizawa setter. Shirabu’s voice distracted him from his homework, and the thought of his slim hands kept him going through the day.

Eventually, late night talks between the two kept him from sleeping. The two grew close and, unfortunately, Yahaba forced himself to retain Shirabu’s insomniac sleep schedule as well.

However, there was another time Shirabu distracted Yahaba; one certain memory they would both become obsessed with.

The third time Shirabu distracted Yahaba was during prelims. Shiratorizawa and Aobajōsai were matched late in the game, making it to the quarterfinals of prelims. 

“Chance ball!” Goshiki calls from shiratorizawa’s side of the court. He receives it and sends it to Shirabu.

The ball was a bit off, but that didn’t matter for Shirabu. No matter the receive, he’d get it to his spiker regardless. He jumps up to touch it. 

“Senpai!” Goshiki squeaks. 

Yahaba watches as the ball manages to get past Kindaichi, block. Watari fails to receive it and the point goes to Shiratorizawa. 

Yahaba sighs, then freezes when he looks over to his opponents. Shirabu is lying on the ground, holding his ankle while pain twisted his face. 

“Shirabu!” Yahaba lets a worried cry come out.

The game completely stops with a blow of the whistle. Yahaba doesnt even think twice as he go over the net to join Goshiki and Kawanishi. The two are bent down next to their captain.

Kawanishi glances up at the other captain. He doesn’t question why he’s there. “Kenjirō, come on. We’ll help you to the nurse.” Goshiki nods his agreement, but Yahaba shakes his head.

“I’ll help. You should stay here, Kawanishi.”

“What? Your team needs their captain.”

Yahaba scoffs. “So does yours. But they’ll settle for their vice,” he points out as he picks Shirbau up. Goshiki takes the left side while Yahaba takes the right.

Kawanishi looks skeptical but eventually nods. He looks back at his team, who all look worried and a bit scared.

Shirabu looks up, putting on a brave face as he scowls his team. “Don’t let this stop you! Beat Seijoh like we always do.” After his harsh words, he looks away from Yahaba.

Yahaba doesn’t mind. He’s use to Shirabu pretending they aren’t friend; like they don’t talk every night. It was something about his pride that he wouldn’t let go of.

Yahaba let Shirabu lean on him as they made their way to the nurse. Luckily, Seijoh has a first year setter on a high level, and he subs in until the captain’s return.

Shirabu lies back, groaning in pain. “Goshiki, you don’t have to stay. It’s one thing to lost the setter, but we need our ace.” He gives Goshiki a gentle smile.

That was enough to set a fire in Goshiki’s eyes. “Y-yes sir!” He shouts, saluting. “I’ll tell the others you’re alright.” He leaves the two setters alone.

Yahaba sits in a seat besides Shirabu. He’s happy they’re finally alone—other than the nurse who puts ice on Shirabu’s ankle.

“I didn’t even see what happened...” Yahaba says quietly.

“I jumped for the set, but landed weird,” Shirabu explains, “It feels like I rolled it.” He looks down at his swollen ankle, biting back tears.

Yahaba watches silently. Things that once distracted him—like the color of Shirabu’s eyes or the way his hair bounces ever so slightly when he laughs—didn’t matter in that moment. All that matter was Shirabu; not his appearance or little habits. All that matter was his feelings.

“Shirabu-“

“Kenjirō,” he corrects him, looking up with a soft smile, “Call me Kenjirō. All my friends do.”

Yahaba pauses. His ear burn red, and he hopes his face doesn’t do the same. “Kenjirō-“ he wants to smile. The name runs off his tongue so easily, “Are you okay? Do you wanna talk?”

“About what, exactly?” Shirabu sounds bitter, “How I wont be able to play for a few games? How your team will undoubtably win now that I’m hurt?” He turns away angrily. “You don’t have to stay, Yahaba.”

Yahaba huffs, “But I wanna stay. And we don’t have to talk about that, it can be whatever.”

Shirabu looks back at the other captain, “Your team needs you.”

“And you need me.”

The silence drags on for a little while. Yahaba wonders if he went too far. Then he sees Shirabu smiling a genuine smile.

“Don’t go saying things like that, dummy,” he lightly punches Yahaba, “You’ll seem soft.”

Yahaba smiles, laughing softly. “Why not? I was being serious.”

“As serious as you are when you look at my hands?” Shirabu asks slyly.

Yahaba feels his cheeks deepen in their shade of red. “Y-you-“

“Notice? Yeah of course I do,” he smirks, “You pay too much attention to me, Yahaba.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Yahaba looks away, a bit ashamed. “Maybe I do..”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing-“ Shirabu realizes Yahaba didn’t take his teasing the way he intended. “I think it’s cute.”

Yahaba starts fidgeting with his fingers.

Shirabu sighs. “Yahaba, can you promise me something?”

“And what’s that?”

“Promise me—if I never shake back from this—that you’ll bring your team to nationals. For the both of us?” He tries to look at Yahaba in the eyes. “Promise?”

Yahaba finally looks at the brown eyes. The same brown eyes that distracted him in that practice match. The same brown eyes that struck him into silence countless times before.

Shirabu’s hands grips his uniform. They were shaking with anger, sadness, disappointment, frustration, and other emotions Yahaba couldn’t even begin to understand. Those hands that made Yahaba pause in his tracks. Shirabu clutches his shorts so hard that his knuckles turn white.

As tears began to form in his brown eyes, Shirabu looks away. Those damn bangs. Another thing that distracted Yahaba oh so much.

“I promise.”

Shirabu looks back up at the sudden words. He smiles at Yahaba and laughs through his tears.

Yahaba reaches over and covers Shirabu’s hand with his own. He waits for the tension to be released. He just wants Shirabu to feel safe. Shirabu flinches over the sudden touch but doesn’t pull away. Those damn hands. Yahaba reaches up and pushes Shirabu’s bangs to the side, only to get a better look at Shirabu’s eyes. Those damn bangs.. those damn eyes.

“Shirabu-“ Yahaba starts. “..Kenjirō. You know what I said earlier? About you needing me?” He squeezes Shirabu’s hand softly, “Well truth is.. I need you.”

Shirabu smiles softly, “And I need you, Shigeru.”

Yahaba shudders at the sound of his given name being said by the other setter. He waited so long to hear it, and it doesn’t disappoint.

In the end, Yahaba returns to his team in the last set. They win against shiratorizawa for the first time in at least three years.

Yahaba can see Oikawa ready to burst into tears as the ex-third years come congratulate them. Iwaizumi pats Kyotani, the latter leaning into the touch proudly. Matsukawa wraps his arm around Kindaichi, praising his blocks. Hanamaki compliments Kunimi and Watari as if he were taking notes the while time; he could’ve written an essay.

Despite the pride he felt, Yahaba couldn’t help but worry about Shirabu. Forever distracting him, even when he wasn’t around. That damn Shirabu. 

—  
+1 

Shirabu was always distracting Yahaba. But every once and a while, it was the other way around.

Shirabu watches as the other setter-captain bursts through his dorm.

“Kenjirō!” Yahaba chirps, “You look better already!” He says as he sets down some bags. “I brought you your favorite snacks~” he smiles.

Smile. Shirabu likes Yahaba’s smile; at least when it’s not cocky. Just a genuine, happy smile. Shirabu strongly believes that—if he wanted to—Yahaba could win just by sending a smile his way. He’d melt right there on the court, a puddle of pure happiness. But he’ll never tell Yahaba that.

“Will you stop playing nurse already?” Shirabu scoffs, “I can take care of a twisted ankle myself, ya know?”

“Hm, true,” Yahaba looks as if he’s thinking. Then he sends Shirabu a peace sign, sticking his tongue out past his smile. “But this is a perfect excuse to see you, Kenjirō~”

Shirabu rolls his eyes. “I should’ve never said you can say my first name.” He scoffs, “It’s getting annoying.”

“Meanie,” Yahaba pouts, “Fine. How about... Shirabu-chan?”

Shirabu shakes his hands and pulls a face of disgust. “Don’t. You’re not Oikawa-san.”

Yahaba laughs. That laugh that could cure a bad mood—at least according to Shirabu.

And that’s the three times Shirabu distracted Yahaba, plus another time it was reversed. That damn smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl I’m torn between Shirabu x Yahaba and Shirabu x Kawanishi ;-;


End file.
